


Hiding in Plain Sight

by Cy_Fi_TheAnswerIs42



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drowning, Emotional Hurt No Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Freaking heck will I ever write anything happy?, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I'M SO SORRY TO HURT YOU MIKEY YOU PRECIOUS BEAN!, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Near Death Experiences, Near character death, Tags will update as I add to this, near-drowning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-11-17 14:43:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18100565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cy_Fi_TheAnswerIs42/pseuds/Cy_Fi_TheAnswerIs42
Summary: Not everyone is as happy as they seem. Honestly, it's terrifying how easy it is to hide how you're hurting.(A bunch of Rise of the TMNT angst prompts that I've written stuff for. Specific warnings will be at the beginning of each chapter)





	1. Michelangelo

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by one of teetlebros Rise of the TMNT angst prompts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by one of teetlebros' angst prompts.

Mikey was happy…right?

When painting and creating, when goofing around with his brothers, when hanging out with April, he definitely was happy, no question about it. He could laugh, smile, and feel  _safe_  around them, joy fluttering through the youngest turtle.

But, just because he was happy then, didn’t mean he always felt that way.

Most of the time, he hid it well, biting down excessive anger before he said the wrong thing, plastering on a smile when he wanted to cry, making sure that his brothers thought he was fine.

Because that was his job as the youngest, to be happy and optimistic, right?

When Raph was feeling the pressure of being the leader, that meant it was time for favorite snacks and adorable animal videos. When Leo’s self-doubt about his usefulness to the team started creeping up on him, there was Mikey with jokes and memes to make his immediate older brother laugh. When Donnie would lock himself away in his lab because he got the idea in his head that since he was physically the most vulnerable then he had to make up for it with wild inventions, Mikey would appear ready for hugs that reminded the older turtle that no one thought he was a burden.

And when Michelangelo was feeling off? Like the goofball youngest brother that no one thought to ever take seriously? That he had no worth other than making sure his brothers were fine?

He just smiled harder.

There were times that he couldn’t help it. When his favorite pizza place was destroyed, his rage was already burning hot and ready to scorch anyone who dared get close before he realized what he was doing. When Bullhopstayed almost  _20 full days_  longer than they thought he would, they were  _all_  at their wit’s end and ready to snap, so he didn’t quite feel so bad about that little slip.

Sure, there are plenty of times when he just wants to just lock himself away in his room and spray paint the walls in an attempt to just get all these horrible feelings out, but he can rarely sneak away without anyone wondering where he is for a few hours, so for the most part he doesn’t. Sometimes he does, new jagged and dark lines covering his walls until he feels better, and then those are covered once again with bright and cheerful colors, successfully hiding what lay underneath.

But he can rarely get away with that, with hiding away just to let those emotions  _out_.

So instead, he shoves those feelings down, and  _smiles_.


	2. Donatello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a softshell turtle, Donnie can hold his breath for hours.
> 
> It's terrifying when that particular ability becomes useful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for near drowning. Once again inspired by one of teetlebros' prompts.

Most of the time, Donnie didn’t go salvaging on his own.

He had before, sure, for the first time back when he was twelve, couldn’t sleep, and absolutely _needed_ to get his hands on some motors for his latest project that absolutely _could not_ wait until morning. When he returned, hours and one extremely worried overprotective older brother later, even Raph’s rant about how he should have _at least_ left a note did nothing to diminish the glee of a successful find.

So while Donatello _could_ go salvaging on his own, in his opinion it was always better to have someone with him, someone to help carry the treasures he discovered and to rant at about how people threw away such good _stuff_.

Sometimes though, like on nights like tonight when he just needed a break from everyone and had taken off muttering under his breath, a clear sign to everyone to give him space, he was alone.

Completely alone.

Completely alone and wishing he wasn’t when he opened up a large storage container to find a pack of now _extremely_ pissed off mutant silverfish.

“Oh, you’ve _got_ to be kidding me!” Donnie cried out as he swung his bo at the first silverfish that lunged at him, sending it flying into the air. The rest of the pack came at him, forcing him to constantly move and stay on the defensive.

As much as he _hated_ asking for help, Donatello knew when he was in over his head.

“Neon Leon at your service.” Leo’s voice drawled out from the phone’s speakers.

“Silverfish, _lots_ of silverfish!” Donnie screeched, internally cursing as he hit a silverfish too hard and caused it to split into two, adding to his problem.

“I’ll get the others, where are you?” Leo quickly asked, all joking and goofy smugness gone from his voice.

“I’m at the junkyard near the docks wi- HEY GET OFF!” Donatello shouted as a silverfish got lucky and dodged his bo, landing on his shoulder and taking a bite out his phone before chomping on the shoulder clamp for his battle shell.

“Stop it, that is some very sophisticated and _inconvenient to fix_ tech you’re chewi- AAAAAAHHHHH!” Donnie’s lecture was cut short as the silverfish bit through some wires, activating the rotors and launching them both into the air. They flew erratically, the sporadic movements throwing the silverfish off, getting higher and higher, the navigation systems not responding to Donnie’s desperate commands. With a pop and a spark, the blades stopped moving.

For a moment, just a moment, he hung still in the air.

Then Donatello started falling.

Plummeting like a rock thrown from a roof, Donnie fell quickly, trying and failing to get the battleshell working again. He looked down, seeing nothing but fast approaching water beneath him, and realized he wasn’t going to get it to work in time, if at all.

Nearly at the water, Donnie took a deep breath in, and prepared for impact.

Slicing through the surface of the water like a knife through butter, Donatello shot downwards, getting deeper and deeper by the second. He internally sighed in relief that the impact didn’t kill him, and reached for the shoulder clamps on his battleshell.

It didn’t release.

Eyes going wide, he pulled at the malfunctioning clamp more, kicking his legs to try and slow his descent.

Neither worked.

Donnie reached the bottom as his frustration levels rose. He was naturally a good swimmer, so being in the water normally wasn’t a problem, but with his battleshell stuck to him, the normally protective device was now a hinderance instead of helpful, a deadweight.

Oh, the _irony._

With an internalized huff, Donnie crossed his arms, sitting on the sand and garbage covered floor, and waited for his brothers who were thankfully already on their way. Luckily, since he was a softshell turtle, he could wait for hours.

Two minutes into his wait, Donnie’s posture stiffened with a realization. While his brothers were looking for him, yes, they would be looking around the junkyard _on land_ , not underwater.

_They didn’t know where to look._

-TMNT-

The first hour went by with Donnie struggling to keep his heartrate down, to keep calm and try not to use up the precious oxygen he had.

The second hour went by with Donnie staring upwards, eyes darting and praying to spot a familiar figure.

In the third hour, he was hoping for a fishing net from a boat or even a singular fishing line, just _something_ he could grab onto and pull himself upwards.

Hour four had him pulling again at the shoulder clamps, internally screaming and wishing he could just _see_ what that blasted silverfish had done so he could at least _try_ to fix it.

In hour five, everything went dark.

-TMNT-

“-athe, come on Donnie, _breathe!_ ” A voice filtered through the darkness and Donnie felt a painful weight on his plastron and burning in his lungs. He coughed, sputtering up polluted water. His body heaved, and suddenly it felt like he was coughing up a lung along with all that water, his entire chest and throat feeling like it was on _fire_ as his body desperately attempted to get rid of the unwanted liquid.

“Oh thank _god_.” Through the haze that was slowly fading, Donnie recognized that as Leo’s voice, looking up as he coughed and gasped for air to see his twin fall away from him, relief clear in his tone and on his face.

“Donnie!” Mikey yelled, tears spilling over as he wrapped his arms around Donatello in a vice-like grip, shoulders trembling.

“What…what happened?” Donnie wheezed, lungs still attempting to expel any remaining fluid.

“You’re gonna half to tell us that Donnie.” Raphael said, dropping down, shoulders sagging in relief. “We looked at the junkyard, found the silverfish but not you. If it weren’t for that tracking system you have in your tech…” He trailed off, expression twisting and eyes slamming shut before pulling both Donnie and the still-attached Michelangelo into a tight hug.

“Silverfish…silverfish messed up my tech, couldn’t get the shell off, dragged me down.” Donnie croaked as he remembered the events that led up to being trapped underwater. “How long…?”

“Almost five and a half hours before we finally found you and got you out of there…Donnie you weren’t _breathing_ , if Leo didn’t know CPR…” Mikey trailed off, voice cracking and breaking into a sob as he pulled Donnie tighter.

“It’s alright Mikey, I’m fine.” Donatello consoled, feeling his breathing slowly return to a normal rate. He looked up, gratitude clear on his face as he looked towards Leonardo. The red-eared slider was leaning back on his hands that were propping him up, exhaustion radiating from him. Donnie jerked his head, gesturing for him to join in the group hug. Leo smiled, quickly accepting the invitation.

“I’m ok.”


	3. Leonardo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Leo had bad days, days were the darkness threatened to drag him under.
> 
> Today was one of those days.
> 
> Inspired by artwork by donitkitt and another of teetlebros' angst prompts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for depression and implied/referenced self-harm.

Leonardo knew from the moment he woke up that it was going to be a shit day, a sadly familiar weight on his plastron making it ache. He knew what it meant, had gone through this too many times to be ignorant of what was going on.

He was in the beginnings of another depressive episode. Wonderful.

Leo got out of bed, not bothering to change from his comfortable pajamas to his regular gear. Right now, it felt like an almost impossible effort just to stand, getting changed wasn’t going to happen. Not right now at least.

He walked out of his room and into the main atrium, eyes on the ground and avoiding his brothers who were gathered there, laughing about something until they noticed him. He mumbled a soft “morning”, trying to break the silence that fell when they looked at him, at his attire and low-energy attitude, and put two and two together.

“Leo.” Raph called out when he started to walk away, waiting for the younger turtle to stop and look at him before continuing. “Movie day?”

Leo nodded. There was an agreed upon script for how days when these episodes started went down; Leo, if he found the motivation to even leave his room, would let one of them know it was a Bad Day. They would get the others, and then they would all spend the rest of the day watching Lou Jitsu movies together. It didn’t always help and had them all looking for other ideas went it didn’t, but it was better than Leonardo being alone and using… _other_ methods to deal with it.

“Alright.” Raphael nodded, squeezing Leo’s shoulder reassuringly and softly smiling as he walked by. “I’ll go tell Pops and get the movies set up.”

“I’ll grab snacks.” Mikey jumped up, eager to do something to help, giving Leo a tight hug on his way to the kitchen.

That just left…

“Do I need to hide your old katanas?” Donnie asked, not beating around any bush, not sugar-coating it, jumping straight to the problem that needed his attention.

Leo’s heart went cold at the question, shame and fear rushing through him as he realized what his twin was really asking.

_“Do you feeling like hurting yourself right now?”_

And he did, feeling the familiar choking embrace of self-hatred beginning to curl around his lungs as he watched his brothers drop everything they were doing just for him. Just because his brain was messed up and didn’t make the right chemicals. Just because he literally couldn’t be happy right now. Just because he was _so_ _messed up._

Leo nodded, head dropping and squeezing his arms so much harder than necessary as he hugged himself.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, with only slight hesitation, Donatello’s arms wrapped around him, holding him tight.

“It’s not your fault, don’t hate yourself for something you can’t help.” Donnie consoled, his voice quiet but steady.

“You know I could say the same to you, right?” Leo replied, trying to make his voice joking and light to hide how it wavered and shook. They all knew Leonardo wasn’t the only one who’s brain would turn against themselves, who’s insecurities would scream for attention and drag them down into darker corners of their minds.

“This isn’t about me right now, you’re the one struggling today.” A slight pause, a search for words that would help with no chance of hurting instead. “You know I’m here for you, right? That we all are?”

Leonardo froze, his arms that had been starting to unwrap from around himself to return his twin’s hug halting in the air. He felt himself begin to shake.

“I’m proud of you; you may be an absolute pain in the neck at times, but you’re talented and so, _so_ important to all of us and we need you Leo, we need you like we need oxygen to breathe.”

“Don…” There was no hiding the tremor in his voice now, or the sob that quickly followed, or the tears that began to pour and had him clinging to his brother like a drowning man to a lifeboat.

Neither of them could tell how long they stood there for, Leo gasping for breath as he did his best to stay afloat in the whirlpool of emotions that threatened to drag him under, and Donatello holding him just as tight to show Leo that he was _not_ alone and in fear of what would happen if Leo was left to his own devices. He’d seen what had happened before when Leo was drowning in his depression, memories of blood and tears that ran together and screeched rage-and-pain-fueled words bubbling unwanted to the surface.

There was a reason why Leonardo kept his forearms covered almost constantly.

Eventually, the tears slowed, the shaking stopped, and the short gasping breaths extended into healthier ones.

“Better?” Donnie whispered, moving back just enough to see his twin’s tear-streaked face.

“Yeah.” Leo croaked, a shaky grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes revealing that while the impromptu breakdown might have helped alleviate some of the weight dragging him into the darkness, this was still far from over.

“They’ve probably got the first movie ready, let’s go before Michael eats all the popcorn.” Donatello gently tugged Leonardo in the direction of the living room, one arm staying draped over his brother’s shoulders, keeping him close.

“Have you seen Raph eat, it’s _him_ that we have to worry about.” Leo joked in response, trying to focus on the reassuring weight of Donnie’s arm and how he was going to spend time with his family, instead of the thoughts that were still screaming for his attention and the itch in his wrists.

Together they entered the living room, Splinter giving them a knowing look with barely concealed concern and fear, before launching into a mini-speech about how it was time for another movie marathon and how he had the absolute _best_ of the Lou Jitsu movies for them to watch today. Leonardo buried himself under blankets between Raphael and Michelangelo, careful of the bowls of snacks surrounding the pile of blankets and his brothers, while Splinter’s comfortingly familiar voice droned on, trying to ignore the guilt that rose up when Donatello temporarily left the room, no doubt acting on what Leo had told him about the broken katanas.

The movie began, title card showing and cheesy action music playing. Donnie came back in, task no doubt successful, and the turtles carefully rearranged themselves to make room for him. Now Leo was leaning back against Raph’s plastron, Donnie slouched against him on his right, Mikey resting against his left side, and a bowl of popcorn on his lap. Surrounded by his family, by their clear and unconditional love and affection for him, things weren’t fixed, weren’t magically made better, but his personal demons were a little easier to ignore.

For now, at least, he could forget them. Right now, he wasn’t suffocating in darkness.

Right now, there was a small glimmer of light.


	4. Michelangelo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey couldn't be sad, he was the happy one, the goofy younger brother that could cheer anyone up, he couldn't be sad...could he?
> 
>  
> 
> (I know I've written something for Mikey before, but I feel bad about how short it was, and I've had a lot of stuff going on recently so this happened. I've got stuff in the works for April and Raph, I just need to finish them up and then I'll post them.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for depression and implied/referenced self-harm.

It felt like there was a weight on his plastron, pushing him into his hammock, trapping him there.

Mikey sighed, the action making the pressure seem to multiply tenfold as his lungs expanded and then deflated, before plastering a smile on his face. It wasn’t the first time he had woken up like this, knew how it would only get worse throughout the day as he ran around with his brothers acting like nothing was wrong, but it’s not like he could just stay in bed all day. He was the goofy one, the cheerful carefree little brother that had to make sure his brothers were happy! He couldn’t just lie around because he was feeling off, he had an important role to play.

So Michelangelo got up, tried to ignore how his limbs felt like they were filled with lead and so hard to move, checked in the camera of his phone that his too-fake smile looked real enough to fool his brothers, and ran out of his room.

-TMNT-

_Mikey never meant to start this, an accidental slip when messing around with his kusari-fundo that had one of the blades slicing open his palm being the initial incident, the annoyance at the accident quickly being replaced by amazed curiosity when he realized the sharp stinging of the cut chased away the pain in his chest. Later that evening when alone in his room he’d taken a stolen knife and pressed it into the skin on his shin that was normally covered. He’d spent enough time online to know where people like him normally did this, knew that if his brothers suspected anything then the wrists where the first place they’d check, knew enough to hopefully not get caught._

_Right now, they didn’t have a clue, and he’d lost track of the number of lines on his lower shins._

_Michelangelo knew it was dangerous, that he could go too deep one day, but to his knowledge there weren’t any major veins or anything close to the surface where he cut, so he should be fine. Besides, it was the only relief he had from this darkness that was consuming him, chipping away at his soul and leaving him hollowed out._

_Empty. A shell of his former self._

_So he kept adding line after line, smiling as the stinging lifted some of the weight off his chest, made it feel like he could breathe for once and-_

“Earth to Michelangelo, hello Mikey.”

Raph’s voice dragged Mikey out of his spiraling thoughts, his hands now itching to grab something sharp. Instead, he threw a sheepish smile on his face.

“What were you saying? Sorry, zoned out.”

“I was asking if you were alright.” Raph responded, the beginnings of concern etching itself into his expression. “You seemed pretty out of it, bro.”

“I’m good!” Mikey laughed, jumping off the counter where he’d been seated. “I’ve got some ideas I want to sketch out, see ya later!”

In his haste to escape, Mikey didn’t see Raphael frown in worry and start typing out a text on his phone.

-TMNT-

“Stop crying, stop crying already.”

Mikey had been drawing in one of his notebooks, aggressive charcoal lines scratched out against the page, when a drop of water fell onto the drawing, smearing the artwork. He had looked up, expecting to see water dripping down from a crack in the ceiling (it wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened) but instead he felt something wet trail down his face from his eyes.

He was crying. That explained the water.

He had quickly wiped the tears away, no doubt smudging some of the excess charcoal coating his fingers on his mask, but those were quickly replaced with new ones until there was a steady flow streaming from his eyes and onto his lap.

“Stop crying, stop crying, you don’t have any reason to be sad so stop goddamn crying.” Michelangelo furiously whispered to himself, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes with enough force to make himself see stars.

Just as he was starting to get the tears to slow to a trickle, someone knocked on his bedroom door.

“Hey Mikey, me, Leo, and Donnie need to talk to you real quick, can we come in?” Raph’s voice drifted through the door, the request making Mikey’s posture stiffen in fear.

“Kinda busy right now Raph, maybe later.” He forced his voice to be as casual as possible while he quickly scrubbed away the last of the tears.

“It’s important bro, can’t wait.” Raphael responded, the tone beginning to shift into his “leader voice” and Mikey knew that Raph wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Fine. Come on in.” Michelangelo relented, quickly smiling and turning towards the door.

His brothers walked into the room, their eyes going wide as they took in Mikey’s appearance, the streaks of charcoal around red-rimmed eyes no doubt causing them alarm.

“Mikey, are you ok-” “Bro, were you crying, what’s-” Both Raphael and Leonardo started, both of them rambling in concern while Donnie looked on, his own shock quickly disappearing as his gaze roamed over Mikey and around the room, trying to piece together what happened.

“Guys, I’m _fine_ , just got some charcoal dust in my eyes, no big deal.” Mikey reassured them, hoping they wouldn’t question him too much. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Look Mikey,” Raph began as they all took a seat wherever they could find in the room. “You’ve been acting…off, and it’s got us worried.”

“You get angry a lot more and a lot faster than usual, like you just went _off_ on Bullhop and honestly? The way you went at the DIGG girls scared me.” Leo contributed.

“You’ve been sleeping less, I’ve seen your light on at night more often than not.” Donnie added.

“And when you think we’re not looking, you kinda just curl in on yourself and look a lot sadder and tired.” Raph continued. “There’s probably more stuff that we’re overlooking, but Donnie started doing some research and, uh, well, you did the research Donnie, tell him what you found.”

“Changes in sleep patterns, irregular behavior, extreme moods, increased sadness, loss of interest in favorite activities,” Donatello checked off each one on his fingers as he listed them off. “All symptoms of depression.”

For a moment, Mikey said nothing, fear coursing through him as his heart pounded against his plastron. They _knew_ , they couldn’t know, he couldn’t let them know!

“Me? Depressed?” Mikey laughed, trying to put as much amusement into his voice as possible. “I’m sorry Donnie but I think we need to get your head checked, there’s no _way_ I’m depressed.”

“Mikey, you’ve been acting like this for weeks!” Leonardo pushed, throwing his hands in the air. “You’ve been spending more time alone in your room than Donnie does in his lab!”

“I’ve been working on some drawings.” Michelangelo countered.

“You haven’t added any new murals to the walls in weeks.” Raphael this time.

“Nothing I’ve _wanted_ to add.” Mikey ground his teeth, feeling his fear at the discovery and the annoyance at how persistent his brothers were being twist into something darker.

“You haven’t made pizza for a month.” Donatello added to the list.

“I’ve been busy and Lou Mike Tony Tony’s pizza is great!” Mikey snapped, his temper boiling over. “God, there’s nothing _wrong_ you guys, everything’s _fine_! Maybe I’ve had an off day or two but who doesn’t! They happen and then they’re over! No big deal!”

“Mikey, calm down, we’re-” Leo started, but Mikey continued on his rant.

“Why would you even jump to something as bad as depression, like ‘oh hey, you’ve been acting off so we think there’s something _wrong with you_ ’, and you just come in here with your accusations, acting like you know what’s up when you don’t know _anything_ about what’s been going on and-” Mikey stopped, realizing his mistake too late.

The room was quiet.

“Michael.” Donnie started, his voice quiet. “What don’t we know?”

“Nothing, Donnie, I just…I…” Mikey trailed off, scrambling for excuses and coming up with nothing. “It’s not important.”

“What isn’t important?”

“All of, of…this!” Mikey gestured around wildly, practically throwing his arms out. “It doesn’t matter, what I’ve been feeling isn’t important because I’m the happy one, I have to be there to cheer you guys up and, and-” At the now too-familiar feeling of tears trailing down his cheeks, Mikey wiped a hand across his face, looking away from his brothers as if he could hide the tears they no doubt already saw.

Suddenly Mikey was wrapped in a hug, large familiar arms holding him close.

“Your feelings matter Mikey; don’t you dare think otherwise.” Raph said fiercely, squeezing him tighter. Enveloped in the almost crushing embrace, Michelangelo felt his throat constrict and his breathing hitch.

“I’m not supposed to be sad, Raph, I’m supposed to be _happy_.” Mikey choked out, his voice trembling as he looked up at his oldest brother with wide tear-filled eyes. “ _Why can’t I just be happy?_ ”

The moment the question was voiced, a question he had whispered to himself alone in empty silence too many times to count, Mikey broke down, hiccupping sobs now the only sound he was capable of making. Two more sets of arms wrapped around him, cocooning the youngest turtle in warmth and support. Raphael whispered soothing words while Leo rubbed calming circles into Michelangelo’s shell and Donnie starting silently planning what they could do for Mikey, noting what he knew and what he didn’t about depression so he could research it later, right now just trying to be _there_ for his little brother.

Now, they knew. Now, they could help their baby brother heal.


End file.
